Playground Politics
by ThePointGirl
Summary: 'Sorry I undermined you in court, I shouldn't have' - Sam goes to apologise to Jake about his behviour with the witness come murderer Lucy Mckinnon. Only things don't go that smoothly, as you would guess, with the CPS' star prosecutor and the Met's rocky DS. SLASH.
1. House Proud and Doing Something Stupid

**Title: **Playground Politics

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the characters obviously, but sorry if it's pants.

**Warning: **Slash, UST, and class war implications.

**Notes: **Another Law & Order: UK fanfic, starring Sam Casey and Jacob Thorne. They are my new ship because of their rough, push and shove tension filled conversations.

For FreekyDisaster18

Really sorry if it's crap. But if you do like it, review :)

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><p>I knocked on the door of the flat and waited in the brisk night air. Taking two steps away from the porch, hearing movement from inside, meaning the occupant was in and willing to open the door. I looked to the ground with my jaw clenched and hands in my black suit trouser pockets. The shiny blue painted door opened and light streamed out illuminating the path. I raised my head and looked straight at Senior Crown Prosecutor Jacob Thorne. His face was neutral but I could tell he was reading me from his eyes. He was treating me like a suspect and I hadn't even opened my mouth!<p>

'Sorry I undermined you in court, I shouldn't have' I said, shuffling, and suddenly feeling about ten years old. I never had a dad, not really, and now I know why. Mum had a few boyfriends that came and went, and she was too lenient with me. I was beginning to get pissed off by the fact.

'No. You shouldn't have. I don't take lightly to people who make me look stupid in court, Detective'

'I don't know what else to say,' I muttered, now looking somewhere in the vicinity of his shoulders, trying to work out what that black and white photo was on the hallway wall.

'So, you regret it then? Are you handing in your letter of resignation?' Jake asked two questions in the space of two seconds.

I looked straight at him, feeling my eyes blazing.

'Yes I regret it. No I'm not' I replied, rocking slightly on the balls of my feet. The cold wind air blew and I hugged my jacket closer to me through the pockets.

'DI Chandler certainly sees something in you,' and I could hear the grit of condescension in his voice but also something else. Something I couldn't decrypt, that Jake wasn't letting me access.

'Can't think what'

'For God's sake Casey, put up a fight about it' he said. I blinked, and laughed a hash, humourless laugh. Taking my hands out of my pockets, rubbing my eyes, still laughing darkly, although it had reduced to a rumble in the back of my throat now.

'Y'know, that's exactly what I needed as a kid' I said past my hands. When I let my palms fall back to my sides, Jake's expression had softened slightly.

'I can tell you were never the boy to come home on time' and I bit my lip, nodding, agreeing.

'Yeah' I answered.

Now what happened? I should get home, and leave Jake to peace. He looked very close to hitting me not six hours ago. Funny, I'm not a psychologist, but it's interesting how much you can see from looking at someone's eyes. They can fool you, hurt you, and show how disappointed they are of you. It's a trick in interrogations - people lie, but some can't get it to reach their eyes.

'Okay, come in'

I froze, stock still.

'What?'

'I'm giving your intelligence the benefit of the doubt' and right there was Prosecutor that sent down countless number of backstreet criminals, however there was also Jake who looked like he needed to wind down.

'I don't think you want to do that. Look what happened the last time I walked into someone's flat' I said honestly, trying for funny, and Jake was in the middle of a mid-turn, when he stopped and smirked.

'You can either come in and I can offer you a beer, or I can see you on Monday – if I get a proper weekend that does not include reading a pile of briefs that is already on my bed' and Jake paused, allowing me the room to back situation _should_ be easy but it wasn't. Everything about it was tipped onto the side like a bad camera angle in b-rated TV show.

'Tell me you've got some decent beer, if you're offering?' I asked, flashing a grin.

I shut the door on my way in.

In his kitchen - which was white, modern and minimalistic - I leaned on the counter as Jake ducked to get to, what I guessed was, the fridge. He reappeared holding two bottles of San Miguel, opening one easily with the bottle opener that hung under the cupboard on a hook. So, I clearly wasn't the only one who got used to a drink after work.

'I saw you as a Becks sort of man or maybe Guinness,' I commented and he raised an eyebrow at me. 'But you're a SM man. Like me' and I hid my grin, too many people fell for the SM joke. Jake opened the other and slid it across to me, his hand still on the base of the bottle.

'Don't push it Casey' and I took the neck of the bottle, and Jake let go. If I had looked away at that moment, I would have missed the playful glint in Jake's eyes.

'With you? I'm already scared of you'

I waved both hands about, then taking a gulp from the bottle. Man, I needed that.

Yeah, that was a joke. I was more intimidated by him than scared if I was truthful with myself.

_Playground-bloody-politics._

'Why does that make me feel good?' Jake asked. Lowering the bottle, I replied.

'You're a sadist. It's a good thing you're on this side of the law, really'

'Oh, we are going down that route then?' Jake asked his eyes wide, almost innocent. It was my turn to smirk.

'Whatever,' and Jake walked into his living space, though the archway that probably used to have a door but I wasn't going to mock another guy's interior design choices.

'Sam, you realise if you carry on like this, you will be demoted from the police force?' he asked, turning to face me again, and standing in the centre of his living room, directly in front of the fireplace and the widescreen TV above it.

'I know, I know. I need to wake up - quickly'

'You do, because I don't want to be disbarred for assault and battery regarding a certain ex-police officer' Jake said, and he pulled from his beer.

I smirked somewhat sheepishly.

'You'd commit A&B on me? That's harsh' I stated and Jake rolled his eyes.

Looking at him, he had a set of muscle, and had broader shoulders than I did. I would be screwed. Jake seemed like someone who would verbally abuse rather than physically, but what do I know?

'Don't worry I'm sneaky'

'Now I'm more worried to be honest, I can't tell when you're joking or not sometimes' and I collapsed onto the sofa, letting my head drop back onto the leather. Jake had begun pacing, so I lifted my head up just as he put his beer on the table and sat next to me at, not quite end, of the couch.

'Does- Kath-?' and he waited while I nodded to tell him he'd got her name correct. 'Know about all of this?' I shook my head.

'Nope, and oh god-'I groaned, pulling at my hair with my hands, still holding the bottle of San Miguel. That was all I needed. The more I thought about it, the more I mentally kicked myself at how stupid I had been.

'This might sound like incredibly terrible advice, but don't tell her. That is, unless you never want to see Ben again?' Jake asked, and I glared at him for a split second. 'There you go' he said simply.

'Why am I so bad at this?' I asked the question to myself, but Jake seemed inclined to give me an answer.

'Do you want me to go all defense counsel on you?' and I nodded once, then Jake continued. 'You didn't have a father figure, so you haven't had a sufficient role model. Therefore, inevitably, you aren't going to cope well in parental situations and ones that involve responsibility' Jake said and I couldn't disagree.

Because Jake was right, wasn't he?

'Which is exactly what's happened so far'

'If you want my opinion, I don't believe you are incompetent at using your head. You just need a bit of guidance like a puppy. Ronnie should –'

'I'm not a puppy!' I exclaimed, feeling humiliated and infantalised, and Jake - the bastard - smirked.

'Really? Because I'm not seeing anything to disaffirm that at the moment' and I raised my beer in mock salute, taking another swig.

'If I'm a puppy, you're a cocker spaniel' I retorted and laughing softly when Jake chuckled.

'There are worse dogs to be compared to –'and Jake shut his eyes. 'Reminds me of a Dangerous Dogs Case I once dealt with' and he shook his head, looking distant for a moment.

'What, did an owner not like you?' and Jake pursed his lips, looking as if he didn't want to tell me what he was about to but did so regardless.

'Not exactly. He asked me whether I was a cat person or a dog person. I said neither, I prefer people, he wasn't particularly happy about that'

I tapped the bottle rim on my bottom lip and blew hot air as I started to giggle. Jake sunk back, emitting a soft noise.

Finishing the rest of my beer, placing the bottle back on the table, I rubbed my fingers over my mouth and sighed, my eyes slipping closed.

'Why did you tell me to 'put up a fight about it'?' I asked after a moment, thinking back to when I was stood on the porch.

Jake frowned.

'When you said you couldn't think what DI Chandler saw in you?' he asked, his voice level.

'Yeah'

'Because I was always taught that if you go down, you go down fighting or gracefully; and in your case fighting is the only option' my elbows leaning on my thighs before sitting up to look back at Jake.

'So, the only way for me to leave is to go down kicking and screaming' I snarked, almost baiting.

'You can't play the system, you're too hot headed. You know that'

'Do you actually like talking to me like that?'

'I'm being as blunt as I can. You've seen me in court Sam, don't try it' he warned, so I swiveled in my seat to look at him.

'Is that a threat? What, because you've become a Prosecution Barrister you're better than me?' I stood up, slowly, watching Jake. His eyes widened, pupils dilating, and he watched my movements with curiosity and frustration.

How quickly had everything slid into something a lot more changeable and could-be-nasty? Why didn't I just go home? Why do I make the choices that I make. Well done Sam, take fucking two!

'I don't think I'm better just because I'm a barrister, I don't hate police officers in the same way some of my fellow colleagues do. I think I'm better because I've grown up - you haven't' Jake pushed himself up from the sofa, standing close, the proximity a little stuffy.

'I was right with original take on you. You're not as smart as you let on' I bit back, glaring hard at him. Jake glanced at the clock and licked his lips.

A part of me was itching to hit something, preferably Jake, and I had no idea why which pissed me off.

'I have a first from UCL. How does a boy that grew up in a Devon farmhouse, get a Law degree from one of the highest ranking universities?' he asked. 'I worked my way out, instead of being _complacent_ with where I was' and he looked me up and down as he said so.

'You had that drive, Jake, I didn't' I said loudly, hearing an echo.

'I can see that just from your actions. Tell me, why, why didn't you push?' Jake placed his bottle down on the table, and took a step towards me, slipping his hands inside his pockets. My shoulders tensed, and from where he was, I had to look up to look directly at his face.

'I was stupid kid and no one ever told me. People let me coast'

'Well you're not so stupid now' Jake's voice had lowered an octave.

I shoved him.

Bad mistake.

One I could see the effects of straight away. Jake's entire face darkened, hardened, and it was like his court schooled expression, but there was more sparking underneath.

'You don't actually believe that though, do you?' I half shouted, anger, annoyance, frustration and every other faulty emotion possible, that was felt towards anyone around me was spitting under my skin. Jake grabbed the front of my jacket, and forcibly slammed me into the archway to the kitchen.

'I am really starting to doubt my own opinions, yes! Do you want to know why, when you were sat in the gallery, I defended you?' and I swallowed, now very aware of the heat under my skin, and Jake's hands on my shirt.

There was no getting out of this.

Just hoped nobody killed, wounded or raped anybody else, so I wouldn't have to come to blows with Jake again. It was text book that barristers and coppers rarely got on, seeing the law very differently; one on the beat the other in robes.

But with Jake and I, there was a deep rooted vengeance somewhere that just wouldn't go away. I just looked up at him, and our eyes locked into place.

'I defended you, not only in hope of saving that trial, but because I didn't actually want anyone believing you _were a bad_ police officer!' he growled, warm breath ghosting across my mouth and cheeks. 'I care' he punctuated it with a further shove into the archway, my head bouncing lightly against the once-had-been-door-frame.

It took my head – doused with some alcohol – to register what he meant by that.

'I care about the-'but I cut him off.

Not really wanting to hear anything else. When Jake had shifted his stance, I raised a hand up, which he evidently believed I would hit him with. Assault. The thought skimmed mirthlessly across my mind. I gripped the nape of his neck, touching his black hair, and pulling him down to me.

I didn't really think this through.

At all.

So when his lips crashed against mine, the kiss was hard and angry. Jake's right hand drifted to the collar of my shirt and held on, the left securing me to the archway with his hand around my bicep.

This had to go somewhere. I felt Jake's tongue slip across my lips, asking for entrance, and so I acquiesced, then tugging at his hair.

It was a flash of heat in too little time or space. Jake bit on my bottom lip brutally, I gasped making a noise I'd never admit to. It was Power Play. It was just another way to one up each other.

I hadn't even noticed my other hand had found his belt. Jake's hand snaked upwards to the side of my neck; his nails dug into the back on my hairline, but his thumb swept across my jaw as gentle as you like. I became rougher, not liking that I was backed into a corner, pushing back. Jake growled against my mouth, and I ground my hips into his. He bit at my lips, and I pushed back trying to equal the situation out. The tang of iron, meant my lip's flesh had torn. I winced, as the slick feel of blood smeared along my mouth. I broke away with a whimper that dribbled out of my mouth, Jake's lips still hovering. We had both stopped moving, but our panting was evidence enough. I gulped and did the only thing I could think of doing right then.

I pushed away from him, and left.

'Thanks for the beer' I called, grabbing my jacket from the stand and slammed the door behind me.

What the fuck was I going to do now?

In the last five days, I slept with a murderer, and kissed a Senior Crown Prosecutor. I smacked my head on the wheel for good measure when I got in my car.


	2. It's A Little Thing Called UST

**Title: **Playground Politics

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the characters obviously, but sorry if it's pants.

**Warning: **Slash - should know that by now.

**Notes: **Another Law & Order: UK fanfic, starring Sam Casey and Jacob Thorne. They are my new ship because of their rough, push and shove tension filled conversations.

For FreekyDisaster18 and Mimik

Ding, ding ding! Round two!  
><span>

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><p>Chapter 2: It's A Little Thing Called UST<span><br>

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><p>I found it very hard to look at Senior Crown Prosecutor on the Monday morning, and I ignored Ronnie's glances between the two of us. I mostly addressed Alesha directly, who in turn, passed it to Jake fluidly. The man in question did that blank look, where he shutters everything.<p>

'Jake! A word' Sharpe beckoned, ushering the prosecutor out of the room. He slipped past me, almost knocking his shoulder into mine. I tensed.

'You alright?' Ronnie asked, concerned.

'Yeah. Weird weekend, that's all' I avoided and I knew that Ronnie knew I wasn't telling him something. But he dropped it, leaving further questioning to later.

Weird was a word I could use. Definitely. When I got home, I'd fallen face first onto my bed, groaning into my blue striped pillow. Turning onto my front, arms splayed out in supplication, I had shouted at the ceiling _Fuck me! _Squeezing my eyes shut, licking my lips and tasting the blood beginning the dry, trying to forget the heat, the buzz in my gut, the round dark inquisitorial eyes, the way I – _oh bollocks_. All I could see was Jake. How had this happen? In the last week, how had my life got so out of control, how have I misjudged people so badly? I felt bad jerking off, feeling all of sixteen again, Jake's name on my lips. It was bloody mental.

I perched on the edge of the desk, giving a small smile to Alesha who chose that precise moment to pat my cheek in the friendly was, when back in walked Jake seeing it. Jake paused, before getting Alesha's attention easily, saying something about a case in '92 that was relevant, flashing that stupid boyish smirk of his. She grinned back, acquiescing with what he wanted. I raised an eyebrow behind Alesha at Jake whose eyes flashed to mine, head cocking to one side. Ronnie tapped the sleeve of my jacket, nodding to Jake.

'Sam, let's go have a chat with the wife' Ronnie said and I slid off the desk, standing and patting my pockets – where had I put my phone?

'Looking for this Sam?' Jake held up my phone.

'Cheers' I said, taking it back, flashing a grin, knowing it didn't reach my eyes.

'Good weekend?' I asked and Jake's jaw set in a hard line, I traced the motion and liking the thrill I received.

'Not very eventful, no'

Bastard.

'Same here'

One all, you cocky son of a bitch.

'Sam' Ronnie prodded from the door.

I said goodbye and followed Ronnie out the door and down the corridor.

'What happened with you and Jake?' Ronnie asked casually. I stopped, Ronnie sailing past until he noticed I was no longer next to him.

'Where did you get that from?' I asked, feigning confusion.

'Listen Sam, I might wear glasses, but doesn't I can't see. You two were dancing around each other. You two don't really get on anyway, so what's the issue?' and I sighed, shaking my head.

'Nothing' Lie number one for Monday. Ronnie blinked, looking at me in that way that's calling me out on my bullshit.

'Try again'

'We had a fight. That's it' I answered which was partly true.

'What about?' Ronnie asked, genuinely curious.

'Ronnie, it's me and Jake' I said and the DS smiled, knowing exactly what I was referring to. Jake and I do make mountains out of molehills, arguing over the most pedantic details.

'What was it this time? Disagree on beer over lager?' Ronnie asked, removing his glasses, polishing them on his trench coat, a tiny tired grin emerged. I laughed, closing my eyes, tipping my head back to the ceiling.

'You won't let that drop' I said, then pulling myself together and walking on, holding the door open for Ronnie.

'Hey, you two are going to sit in the pub and argue over alcohol there's no hope. For either of you' Ronnie said, fondness colouring his voice.

They caught Jake at Starbucks, updating him, and, honestly, the man looked in need of three coffees three hours ago. So –

'Get you a coffee?' I asked, being suddenly generous, shocked at my own words.

'Thanks' and Jake flashed a boyish grin my way, distracted, talking to Ronnie. I line up, getting two coffees, and returning to the pair, I offered the cinnamon latte with cream and chocolate sprinkles.

'You have a problem' I said bluntly, 'I said the coffee was for you – the waitress Lisa, says hello and don't work too hard – and she knew your order' and Jake took the cup, blowing over the top.

'I may come in here fairly often' he hedged, a tactic he would pull a part from a defence witness in court. Jake gulped some of the coffee, instantly relaxing. The second coffee I gave to Ronnie who smiled, winking in thanks.

'Careful, Jake' Ronnie warned affectionately, eying the barrister's coffee cup. Coffee addiction – another one that's lethal.

'I know' and the man glanced at his watch, cursing and hurrying off with goodbyes.

I got a text as we walked back to the station. Opening up the message, I saw it was from Jake.

_I owe you for the coffee. If you're at the Black Unicorn Pub on Friday, I'll buy you a pint._

Not lager? I wondered darkly.

I hesitated, making sure not to walk into the lamppost.

_Sure. I'll hold you to that._

Friday. Oh shit.

The case came and went, finished up, a house burglary which ended in a deceased home owner. I had forgotten about Jake's text, the incident at his place hadn't crossed my mind over the last few days. Then again, I had hardly seen the barrister that much at all.

So, as Friday rolled, inevitably around, there was a pool tournament happening with some of the uniforms I knew from Hendon, that were stationed in the area. Ronnie was aptly watching the West Ham friendly game on the pub TV, nicking my peanuts. Kath had dropped Ben off at her mum's and was out somewhere in London clubbing. I got to my feet, about to get another drink when one was placed on the round oak table in front of me like answered call from a higher power. That particular higher power happened to be –

'Jake buying you drinks? That's a first sign that the end is near, no?' Alesha joked, and yes, it must look a little strange. Ronnie greeted her warmly once he took his eyes off the screen.

'Let's just say he owes me'

'Ooh that sounds ominous'

'Where is your Batman anyhow?' I asked, ignoring her, smirking at her slowly raised eyebrow to the hairline of her gorgeous black curls.

'Where do you think? He's been roped in for drinks at The Rose and Crown with with friends of Sharpe's' Alesha said and as if on cue, the pub door opened and in walked the wigs and robes clan including Jake who was missing his tie and was laughing, rubbing a hand down his face.

'Alesha, darling girl!' one man said, waving with his recently acquired drink. Jake smiled at Alesha sheepishly, switching his gaze to me and the pint on the table.

'Oh for the love of-' Ronnie complained shaking his head. I reached, taking back some peanuts.

'Let it go Ronnie. They're not as good as they were' which earned him a half-hearted glare from the DS. You don't mess with West Ham around Ronnie Brookes. I munched on my peanuts, washing them down with a sip of the pin and Ronnie frowned.

'When d'you get that?'

'Getting slow in your old age?' I teased, and the man shot me an exasperated look like he would cuff me round the head.

'You didn't move from your seat. Alesha buying you drinks now. Have I missed something?' Ronnie asked, and the prosecutor laughed at his implication, snorting into her drink.

'No. But Jake is'

Ronnie raised his eyebrows, smirking.

'Hey Jake, can you get me an orange juice' Ronnie asked, and I turned my head to see the prosecutor stop on his way to our table, shoot a questioning look at Ronnie, confusion present on his features, but he shrugged, nodding, going back to the bar. Not that long after, Jake was handing Ronnie his prescribed drink, and Ronnie pushed the money into Jake's palm.

'Might be buying Sam drinks, but I'm paying for mine' Ronnie said and Jake froze, looking at me. I shrugged, hitching a grin and taking a long draft of my pint.

'Well, Sam bought me coffee before the McAffrrey trial. I owed him' Jake said, tipping his own drink to me.

A song began to play through the speakers, as the footie match went to half time. It took me a few seconds of the intro to recognise it. Maroon 5, One More Night. Alesha was singing along, just loud enough for me to hear at least. I met Jake's gaze over the top of my drink. The song was creepily appropriate. Sort of. Okay, not really but it was partly way there.

… _Damn dysfunctional we stopped keeping score…  
>You and I get sick, yeah I know that we can't do this no more...<em>

… _Yeah I stopped using my head, using my head let it all go…_

'But I'll only stay with you one more night' I sang in time, along with Alesha, who smiled, pushing my shoulder with hers companionably. Jake was looking at the pair of us with an amused expression, Ronnie talked about pop music nowadays and to an extent I agreed with him, but the song was quite good. The song ended, the host introducing the next song happily. It was an American rock song I had never heard before, however the beat was good.

… _Come and tell me what my kiss tastes like…_

At the line, the rim of my pint glass was very interesting, the memory flooding back to me.

'Excuse me' I said getting up, working my way past the bar, pool table, clapping Olly – an old friend - on the back with both hands, whispering a hello. He was engaged in a pool game, but he promised quickly to come over after. I pushed to door of the men's' room open, relieved it was empty. Bracing my arms on the sides on the middle sink, breathing in deeply. Something inside me was cracking surely, it was breaking and I could do fuck all about it. Twisting the cold tap viciously, I ran my hands under the cold water, the buzz ebb away. I heard the door open, not bother to check to see who it was because, hey, the universe hated him.

'Sam' Jake stood, leaning on the protruding part of the wall next the first cubicle.

'Following guys isn't the toilets isn't helping your image Jake' I said, shutting the tap off with a swipe of my hand, grazing my wet hands over my jaw, the stubble catching the water. The man gave that irritating oblique smile.

'Nor is kissing a male police officer' he conceded easily. I scowled, facing him. What a place to have this conversation I thought darkly.

'This doesn't – you're okay with that?' I gestured between us. 'I thought you were – well straight in all meanings of the word' I carried on.

'I am. Mostly, yes'

'Wow. Yeah, okay'

'I see your lip has healed. Sorry about that' my hand unconsciously went to feel the flesh of my bottom lip. He had left an obvious mark, but a new layer of skin formed, almost instantly. But, every time I drank some tea, the hot liquid hitting my lips, I winced. 'I assumed you always went for hens not stags if Kath and Ben were anything to go by. Then again, a rule of law is that one shouldn't assume'.

'I am straight. Mostly, yes' mirroring his words. 'Men are simpler – usually' I snarked.

'We should probably go back out there or Ronnie and Alesha might start asking questions. They're good at the jobs for a reason' Jake said, and I nodded, passing him on the way out.

The noise of the pub suddenly engulfed me as I let the door swing shut behind me. Sitting down once more, I gulped some of my pint. It was nearly finished. Dammit.

'Casey! Casey. I'll call you Samuel if you ignore me you pretty boy' and I jumped up to greet Olly, who was beaming, in a hug.

'You alright? You won then?' I said, referring to the pool game.

''Course!'

'How's life?' and the strawberry blond, green eyed copper smacked me on the arm.

'Moved in with Helen. Fucking finally'

'Great, knew you would eventually. Oh, ur, Olly this is Alesha Phillips, Junior Crown Prosecutor, this is –'

'Detective Sergeant Ronnie Brookes 'course. Hello' he said, shaking hands amiably, Ronnie flashing a grin at the man. I was about to say something else to the man when Olly exclaimed rather loudly.

'Oh Christ. Senior Crown Prosecutor Jacob Thorne. Ripped apart my case before we even considered trial' Olly laughed, shaking Jake's hand .

'Hello again, Olly. Or should I say DS Harman?' and Olly grinned, chuckling.

'Olly's fine, we –' a voice carried across the bar, beckoning Olly away. 'Yeah, I'm coming, you idiot. Sam, you still got my number, right? We need to go to the pub, just me and you, yeah?' Olly said, hand placed on my middle back, casually ruffling my hair.

'Get the fuck off me' I laughed, moving out of his grip.

'N'aww pretty boy. That bed hair takes work' and then he was rushing off again. I looked after him in wonderment.

'I have to agree' Alesha said, smiling and arranging my hair with her fingertips.

'What is everyone's fascination with my hair?' I asked to no one in particular. Ronnie and Jake looked at each other and shrugged.

'I don't know, perhaps because you look like you haven't quite finished school' Jake teased.

'My appearance is none of your business,' I said to the table as a whole, grumbling. Jake leaned back into his chair, smiling, licking his lips swiftly.

'That depends on who you're asking, Sam' Alesha corrected and I agreed. Jake asked Ronnie about the score. The West Ham v Chelsea game had started up, and Jake was aptly watching the screen.

'Please, for the love football, tell me you don't support West Ham?' I asked, and Jake's eyes dropped back to mine.

'No. I've been a lacking fan of Chelsea since university' he answered, and he waited for my reaction.

'Still a stupid choice but it's better than West Ham' Jake leaned forward to me, elbows resting on the table.

'Oh don't you two start' Ronnie said, even overlooking my comment on his team.

'It's like watching a game show' Alesha quipped, obviously enjoying this. 'It's free entertainment'.

'Alesha, don't encourage them' Ronnie reprimanded without any kind of heat, just exasperation.

During this, I hadn't stopped watching Jake, I just cocked my head to one size, daring him to carry on. Jake's eyes were sparking lightly, just like they did in court.

It hit me how stupid this was. Really. What the hell were they doing?

Jake opened his mouth and began his tirade, and I smirked, cutting in where I knew I shouldn't, and the barrister halted. This tit for tat channeled nonsense continued, but man, if it wasn't fun to see the red flush creep over Jake's lower jaw.

Bloody Spurs and Chelsea.

It took time, but soon we were wearing each other down. I didn't accept his argument and readily told him so, smirking. Jake rolled his eyes, downing the rest of his drink which he hadn't touched since their talk started. I knocked back my own and Jake looked at his glass, then at me, and said:

'Another?' and next asking Alesha who gave him her order of Rum and coke.

The more alcohol we consumed through the night, the hazier things got. I remembered Alesha going home – Ronnie saying he would drop her off and asking if I was okay. I had obviously said I would fine because I left the pub.

I didn't get home, though, because when I woke up all I could see was grey wallpaper of bedroom that wasn't mine, and the sheets covering me were white.

If that didn't send alarm bells clanging like Big Ben then I didn't know what. Sitting up into a curved position, I carefully turned to see who was asleep beside me.

A shock of dark hair that was usually neat and tidy, and pale skin enveloping strong shoulders.

_Oh fuck off. _


End file.
